Oceans & Coffee
by litwolfe
Summary: Elena Gilbert never really believed in love. She thought that love made you a fool, and ever since her parents died, she would never love anyone ever again. Then she met a certain pair of cloudy baby blue eyes, Damon Salvatore, infamously known for his shooting skills and indescribable tongue. When these two cross paths at the wrong time, something just might go right.
1. Prologue: Falling

Prologue

 _Falling_

•••

Elena Gilbert never really believed in love.

It was always more of a fantasy than reality for her. She saw it as unrealistic, overrated, and pointless.

Why give an other person the ability to hurt you when you could do that all on your own?

She'd seen enough broken hearts in her 21 years of existence. It wasn't worth feeling like you were drowning beneath every memory and every declare of emotion and every passionate fight. It wouldn't be worth it because in the end who would be there to pick up the pieces? Who would be there to tell you that it's okay to not be okay?

But yet, here she was. Falling in love with a devil. Falling in love with a beautiful disaster.

Falling in love with a pain in the ass.

Two months ago, if you had told her that she would die without the touch of a man that made her weak in the knees, she would've burst out laughing and called you stupid. She would've said that there was no way in hell.

But that was before life decided to intervene with Elena's plans.

That was before she fell in desperate, agonizing, and totally uncontrollable love with a pair of wicked baby blue eyes.

That was before she knew about Damon Salvatore.

_

 _ **A/N:** Hi people! I'm a new author on Fanfiction. And this is my first story, so bear with me._

 _This story came to me when I was rewatching the series after the grand finale, which I found to be incredibly beautiful but so fucking heartbreaking._

 _Anyways, there's gonna be more to the summary, but this story is about Elena and Damon meeting and realizing that love is very different for every single person._

 _This fic is going to be an M-rating, so SMUT ALERT later on._

 _I hope you enjoy the prologue and I'll be writing the chapters as soon as I can! I'll be updating tomorrow most likely but who knows?! It could be sooner._

 _Thank you._


	2. Chapter 1: The Crow

The noises were almost too loud to drown out. The busy city traffic was buzzing in Elena Gilbert's ears, causing her to wrap her pillow harshly around her head to try and avoid the bustling of a dreadful Monday morning in New York City.

But, alas, that was her wake up call. That was her perpetual alarm that she could never turn off.

Elena rolled her body over on her back and glanced up at the ceiling of her spacious apartment, the black paint chipping in select places near her dangling light bulb.

Rather regretfully, Elena decided to crawl out of bed and start the day, no matter how exhausted her mind was.

Stepping her bare feet on the cool wooden floor, she padded her way to the bathroom connected to her bedroom.

She looked at her reflection in the mirror, and laughed. Her long, straight brown hair looked like it housed a nest of birds, and the makeup she had been wearing the night before was smudged around her big brown eyes and lips, making her appear as a provocative racoon.

As soon as she washed all the excess makeup off her face, she hopped in the shower.

Ah, her shower. Her favorite place.

It was pure transparent glass with a sliding door and a shower head that met the selective speed of a race car.

It made her believe that there was a heaven somewhere.

When she was finished scrubbing off the sweat and glitter from last night, she wrapped a white cotton towel around her slim but curvy body like a vise.

Steam layered the mirror in front of the sink, giving her the foggy silhouette of a goddess like the ones in the mythological tales she used to read as a child.

As she was searching through her closet for suitable Monday attire, she saw her rumpled dark violet bandage dress laying on the floor next to her toes.

 _How did I fucking get out of that thing?_

Images of last night flooded her memory. Rainbow strobe lights covering the dance floor as she danced against some tawny, light-haired female due to some excessively strong drinks. Her trying to find Bonnie Bennett, her childhood friend, among the mass of bodies fusing together to the bass drop of the pulsing music the DJ was playing.

 _I must have found Bonnie. She must've taken me home._ But Elena didn't remember how she got home, or how she escaped that lethal, skintight dress.

Usually after a night of consuming wicked strong drinks, she would've woken up with a hangover from hell. Yet she didn't. _Odd._

In the end, Elena decided on a pair of black leather pants that hugged her hips, a dark red translucent blouse, and underneath a black lace bustier that revealed her midsection and ample cleavage. To pull it all together, she chose a pair of suede lace-up knee-high boots.

 _Time to kick today's ass._

 _xxx_

"Where's my fucking money, Adams?!"

Those were the last words Damon Salvatore said before he clocked the bastard in his irrelevant face.

Then Damon cracked his head dangerously onto the other guy's.

Damon pulled his fist back after causing blood to pour out of the man's, Cecil Adams, nose.

Cecil was just another lowlife who had hired Damon to get rid of a few people.

When Adams hadn't shown Damon a fucking dime, Damon decided to do something about it.

 _We're even, brother_.

After it was clear Adams wouldn't be able to function normally for a few months, Damon was satisfied with his intentions.

He hopped up from Adams' body after thorough examination.

 _Broken nose, concussion, black eye, etc._

Damon would stay to admire his handiwork, but he had some business to handle.

He lifted his hand, noticed mild bruises on his knuckles, imprints from that dick's face. _Not anything I'm not used to._

He checked his shiny new Rolex, the time was 3:24. He needed to be at Walker's Bar by 4.

 _Better haul ass, hotshot._

Damon sped his sky blue 1969 Chevy Camaro, his baby, down to Brooklyn.

Walker's Bar was a place where Damon handled his business. Preferably the talk of what price for which asshole in need of a good killing.

The owner, Klaus Michaelson, was a personal friend of Damon's. They had met when Klaus was in pursuit of a man who could do his dirty work, no questions asked.

But Damon asked questions.

Soon enough Klaus was in awe of what Damon could do. Not many people in the circuit could finish a job as successfully as Damon. And no one found it as fun.

Damon became Klaus' right hand man, and even his friend.

Damon parked his baby in a safe zone behind the huge bar, and made his way inside.

As Damon stepped in his second home, he was hit with the smell of heavy whiskey. Just how he liked it.

The interior of the bar was just for him, everything slick and dark. There was an entrance of stairs to the second floor beside the bar, where the bartender Matt Donovan stood.

The young man was blonde and of medium build. His eyes were blue, a few shades darker than Damon's.

"What's up, Crow?"

The nickname Crow was given to Damon because he struck fear in anybody who got on his bad side. He would handle it with his fists or his favorite, his pistol. The antique pistol was given to Damon by his late father, Guiseppe Salvatore.

 _Rest in peace, you fucking bastard._

The pistol itself was black as the wings of a crow. There was a tiny emblem carved into the handle of the pistol. It was a tiny bird to others, but to Damon and his gang it was a predatory bird. Like a crow.

"Out tying up loose ends. What about you, Donovan?" Damon eyed Matt as he answered. Even though they were well acquainted, Damon still didn't trust the guy.

Matt hurried and flung a tumbler glass down on the wooden panel in front of Damon, and filled it to the brim with bourbon, Damon's signature drink. "Just livin'."

"Good to know," Damon deadpanned, "Where's Klaus?"

"You know where The Boss is."

Damon rolled his eyes and went upstairs. Klaus had an office, or rather, power room, behind the stock room upstairs. If you didn't have business or ties with Klaus or his men, then you wouldn't even know the room existed.

Damon set his throbbing knuckles against the locked door, and knocked three times.

As soon as he was on his third knock, the door flew open. His comrade and best friend Enzo St. John was at the foot of the opened door.

"Ah, Damon. Mate. Come in." Enzo wrapped his arm around Damon's shoulder and entered the room.

The first thing Damon saw was Klaus sitting in his "throne" in front of an Oakwood desk with his feet propped up on it, him slouching upright in the chair.

"Damon! You're back. Give me good news." Klaus carried a thick British accent in his voice, so he always sounded so fancy and coy.

Damon flopped down on another chair in front of Klaus' desk, Enzo following his actions.

"I ended Paublo and Diryese. I almost killed Adams, though. Quite a shame I didn't, actually. His haircut got on my nerves."

Klaus first laughed, then his eyebrows knit together in question. "Why lay a hand on Adams? He was the one who hired you, Crow. I happen to frown upon misleadings."

"He was a flake. Didn't have the money. You know he owed me a hefty fee for my work, which I pulled through on. I doubt I'll do him any favors from now on."

"Pity. We couldv'e used that money for more ammo," Klaus said jokingly.

Damon grinned. "But now I don't have $100,000 in my bank account. So I am royally pissed. Give me another offer, Boss."

Klaus clicked his tongue in thought, then smirked. "Tell you what. There's an offer for half a million. It won't be easy though. Some guy named Lionel X is searching for a man to get rid of his business associates because he is close to making a deal underground for 3 million. He wants all of the cut for himself, but he can't have that with two bloodthirsty team players chomping at the money bit. Make them disappear, get 500 grand. It's your best quick bet, Crow. But I don't want you doing this on your own. Take Saint with you to see this through."

Enzo was nicknamed Saint, because he saved pretty little girls from stalkers and mad men. His jobs were never as lethal as Damon's, but his deals were just as good.

"Okay. I'll take this. Where do we start?"

Klaus smiled as wide as a joker. "Good. You start at Manhattan's buzzing new nightclub, Nightwalker. See you two soon."

With that, Damon and Enzo set out to cause some hell.

 _ **A/N:** Okay. First chapter up and finished! Im excited. Next chapter Damon will just so happen to stumble upon gorgeous Elena. Sparks will go off. Romantic music in the distance. Blah blah blah._

 _I hope you like this book so far!_

 _Review to tell me what you all think._

 _I will update in about a day or two._

 _Ciao loves !_


	3. Chapter 2: Nightwalker

"Elena, let's go!"

Bonnie Bennett yelled for her best friend Elena to hurry up, and she did a good job.

 _That girl has the best set of lungs_.

"Coming! Jesus fucking Christ." Elena's current predicament was that she could not find a matching pair of stilettos that would go with her dark-wash jeans and tight midnight blue corset top.

 _Fuck it._ Elena decided on her most expensive pair of flats.

Finally, she shrugged on her leather jacket and found Bonnie lounging on Elena's love seat in her living room. "Let's go," Elena said, jinglng her apartment keys in her hand.

"Took you long enough, Lena. I almost aged ten years waiting for your," Bonnie glanced at Elena's five-foot-eight frame gracefully, "really hot self." Both the girls burst out laughing and raced to Bonnie's pearl white BMW.

Driving down to Nightwalker, the new biggest club in Manhattan, Elena got lost in her thoughts.

Earlier that day wasn't the best Elena's ever had. First she had spilled boiling hot sweet tea on her favorite shirt while going to see her little brother Jeremy. She had to go back home and change her top before she clocked in at work.

Second to that, Elena got the news that her aunt Jenna was getting married to her boyfriend of two years, Alaric Saltzman, in September. The same month she was supposed to go down to Miami to visit Caroline Forbes, her other sandbox friend, to honor her mother's 1st year anniversary since her death. Elizabeth Forbes died of cancer last year, and when Elena had heard the news, her heart broke a little. Liz was like family to Elena.

Thirdly, Elena had finally made it back to work. Elena worked as a barista at a coffee shop in Harlem. Whenever she did report back, her boss Silas fired one of the girls working there, Rose. That had cut Elena short on help, and added another two hours to her shift. She was almost late meeting Bonnie at her apartment to drive with her best friend to the club.

Elena was out to make amends with her shitty day. Her night would be better.

Tumbling out of her thoughts into the real world, she noticed her best friend lip-syncing to the song playing on the radio.

 _You took me in so well_

 _Hypnotic taking over me_

 _Make me feel like someone else_

 _Yo_ _u got me talking in my_ _sleep_

 _I don't wanna come back down_

 _I don't wanna touch the ground_

 _Pacific Ocean, dug so deep_

 _Hypnotic taking over me_

Bonnie Bennett was the kind of girl you wished you could be. Elena would know, because she always wanted to look like her green-eyed partner in crime.

Bonnie was petite and compact, thighs muscular followed by a curvy ass. She was light-skinned, the shade of caramel. Her hair was naturally wavy and slick black. Bonnie was always graceful in her movements, like a ballerina. Whereas Bonnie was elegant when she walked, Elena was as clumsy as a child.

Bonnie sped into the parking lot in front of the club and parked hastily.

The outside of the club wasn't nearly as flashy as the inside. It was a brick building with a neon sign encasing the name of the club. There was a line going down the end of the sidewalk with people waiting to get inside. The bouncer was big and intimidating, but Elena knew better.

The girls met the eyes of the man, and pleasantly quick he raised the velvet rope to allow the girls inside.

Elena and Bonnie entered the club, and heard the bumping music coming from the DJ spintable.

The DJ, Tyler Lockwood, went by the name The Wolf. He was a big shot in the city. He was also favored by the gyrating crowd swarming his personal space.

Bonnie clasped her hand around Elena's wrist, dragging her through the mass of sweaty and sticky bodies to the bar.

"We need drinks, bitch. What'll it be?"

Bonnie replied with "a Crown Royal with Coke."

Elena caught the attention of a stocky bartender with a beard. "Can I have a Crown Royal with Coke and Bourbon, neat. Thank you."

Elena waited for her order, and when she received it she slammed a ten on the counter.

Elena handed Bonnie her liquid courage and gazed around for an open booth to temporalily reside.

 _I need to sit down before I drown in Bourbon._

Bonnie slid into the booth, lounging by Elena.

Elena took a long sip of her tumbler. "Jenna's getting married."

Bonnie's eyebrows furrowed in surprise as she felt her drink coating her throat with the thick taste of the liquor. "Married? When? Why?"

"Enough with the questions, Bon. Yes, she's getting married. The wedding's in September. It's to her boyfriend Alaric. She just told me today."

"When in September?" Elena already knew why Bonnie was questioning.

"The week of Caroline's first year without Liz. I have to figure something out. I can't just leave Caroline alone like that. But I also can't miss this thing with Jenna. She wants me to be her Maid Of Honor."

"Well fuck. Good luck with that, Elena."

The girls kept on downing sip after sip of their drinks. Soon enough the whiskey buzzed through Elena's veins, allowing her to leave behind her worries and just live.

"Ooh, I want tequila shots!" Bonnie laughed at Elena as the brunette exclaimed like an excited six-year-old.

"Then go get some. I'll be waiting right here, you crazy."

Elena spotted the bar and slumped into one of the black swiveling stools. "Four tequila shots, please," Elena told the bartender in a sing-song voice.

Receiving the shots she rightfully wanted, she downed the first one.

It stung going down Elena's throat, the taste burning her throat. Afterwards, she became dizzy, swaying on the arches of her feet.

She scooped up a second glass and turned it upside down over her lips, the liquid escaping the glass and sliding down her esophagus. The deep amber alcohol bubbled in her stomach as she squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the effects of the tequila.

 _Two more to go_.

Two more shots later, and Elena decided she was drunk enough to persuade Bonnie onto the dance floor.

As she turned around from the bar to get back to Bonnie, she was hypnotized.

 _The color blue_.

 _xxx_

Damon had one sharp mind. Almost as shape as the knives he was going to use tonight.

He already knew the plan. He had made it in his head while driving on the way to Enzo's loft.

He needed Enzo to catch up.

"So we're going to roofie them? Like naive college girls. What's next, we're going to throw them into the backseat of our car and hope they don't wake up screaming?" Enzo questioning the plan made Damon grin.

"If you see it that way. It's more we get them out of that club and get rid of them where there are no witnesses."

"I know you may think I won't be prepared to do this because you're so full of yourself and you think no one can reach your level of skill, but I know what to do. I'm just not ecstatic about it."

"Just breathe and think of England, " Damon said jokingly.

Enzo scoffed. "I _am_ from England, you dick."

"So it ought to be easy for you, " Damon replied, sarcasm rolling off his tongue like promises he never keeps.

Damon layed his stock of weapons in a row in front of him on the coffee table. There was a blade, a pocketknife, his Crow pistol, etc.

Damon opted for the blade and the pocketknife. He sharpened both of them until the edges were shiny and keen enough to pierce skin with the slightest of touch.

He hid both blades underneath his leather jacket, them attached to his belt.

Damon thought about what would go down at Nightwalker. Or rather _what_ would be there.

 _Short dresses. Plunging necklines. Strappy heels showcasing long legs._

Damon smiled to himself.

 _Don't leg your cock do the thinking tonight, Salvatore_.

As if he could help it. Girls loved receiving attention from him, and he just so happened to give the divine girls his time.

Damon stood in front of Enzo as he threaded his slim, scarred fingers through his jet black hair. "Let's go, Saint. You ready?"

"As fucking ready as I'll ever be, " Enzo replied, clapping his hand together enthusiastically.

Damon chuckled lightly. "Move it, you stupid British bastard."

Damon threw his palms against Enzo's back and pushed him harshly out the door, not being a minute late for their _appointment_ with some money bags.

xxx

Damon parked his Camaro in the first free space he saw, slamming the door to his baby shut as he stepped out of it casually. Enzo repeated Damon's actions, meeting Damon's side as they welcomed themselves into the club happily, ignoring the bouncer after bribing the giant with two-hundred bucks.

When Damon and his partner made it inside, the bright lights played with Damon's eyes. Especially the strobe lights displaying mutiple neon colors.

Damon's eyes searched through the blazing crowd and spotted what he was looking for. The two men, Will and Connor, were taking turns groping girls clad in tight dresses that didn't leave much to the imagination.

"Enzo!" Damon whispered to his friend, motioning his head to the guys.

They traded nods of their heads in understanding, and parted ways.

They needed to scope the place out first. Elavuate the steps for the best plan, to manipulate the situations happening in the club.

Damon headed for the bar. As soon as Damon strode over to it, his eyes caught the delicious sight of a woman in jeans that were tight enough to make Damon's even tighter. The back of the corset the girl was wearing showed the perfect amount of creamy olive skin. Her shoulders were bare, and the small of her back was peeking through the dark lace of the top. Her skin was clear of any dramatic tattoos, but she had a few appearing on her skin.

She had a small black rose in the center of her upper back, in between her shoulder blades. There was another wrapping itself around her hip, a quote possibly.

A red set of numbers in Roman Numerals rested on her shoulder.

Damon wasn't sure if she had more, because she hadn't turned around. So Damon decided to approach her slyly, seducing.

Before he did, he heard her ordering a drink.

Damon glided by Elena's side, the cool leather of his jacket brushing against her bare shoulder. Shocks swept through his body, sending him into a frenzy.

Damon spoke to the unbusy bartender, "Can I have whatever this gorgeous girl is having?"

As soon as Damon finished his sentence, Elena tilted her head over, and her heart stopped beating. The air escaped her lungs. Her body wasn't functioning.

 _Fucking fuck_.

Elena finally met eye contact with the godly human beside her.

 _Blue_.

 _His eyes_.


	4. Chapter 3: Caught

The first and only thing she could register at the moment was an abysmal bright blue ocean that she was slowly losing herself in.

Eventually Elena caught her breath again.

She was mesmerized.

The man standing in front of her, all black leather and clever charm, made Elena want to bite her lip until she tasted blood and metal.

The dark Casanova was a tad taller than Elena, with a body Elena knew was carved from the heavens. Or maybe possibly hell. He made Elena want to sin until she couldn't anymore.

His hair was raven black. It looked soft. Elena wanted to run her fingers through it so bad. His skin was flawlessly fair.

Overall, Elena wanted to know how a man so fucking _drop-dead gorgeous_ existed.

Elena must have gotten lost, _so lost,_ in the blue of everything swirling around her that she hadn't even noticed he had spoken.

But when she did, she groaned inwardly. _His voice was dripping with sex._

"I'm Damon, " he said as he took a swig of his whiskey, which she was filled with.

"I'm Elena, " she murmered, almost making Damon unable to hear her.

 _Elena_. _Even her name is exquisite._

Her name rolled off Damon's tongue perfectly as he repeated it. "Elena. I like it. It's suits you, _Elena."_ Damon then took the opportunity to drink the rest of her in.

Her eyes were a deep chocolate, with spiderweb eyelashes framing them. She had a mischevious twinkle in those eyes, letting Damon know that she was a sucker for getting herself into trouble.

Her hair was the same color, it flowing down her back, brushing her hips.

All Damon could imagine was her hair fisted in between his fingers as she whispered unholy things in his ear.

All of Damon's thinking made his dick jump, but he undelightfully refrained from any actions he'd just _love_ to fulfill.

The front of Elena's corset pushed her breasts up to give a pleasant display. Damon was grateful at the sight.

"So what brings you here, Elena?"

Damon watched her face for any reaction as he waited for her to respond.

"I love dancing. And I also can't help but feed my addiction to being faded. What about you?"

Damon believed it when she said she loved to dance. She had the kind of body that made Damon want to watch her dance all night long.

"Oh, you know. Avoiding the busy buzz of New York City and its infamous reputation of being the city that never sleeps. And the whiskey here is fantastic, " Damon quipped.

"Why avoid? You seem like the type of man to invite the buzz, instead of run in the opposite direction of it."

Damon was taken aback at how observant this girl was. It was refreshing.

"Not in particular, avoiding. Just taking a break, I should say. The buzz is sometimes overwhelming for even the strongest man, you know. Not all of us are 24/7 super heroes." Damon was never actually overwhelmed, just wired.

Elena flicked her tongue in agreement as she nodded. "No offense, but you don't strike me as the hero. Although you would look good in tights."

Damon's lips turned up into a smug smile at Elena's comment.

 _You're right about that, sweetheart._

"None taken. I'm not. I'm more of my own kind of bad. I prefer the role of the villain anyway. They always do have more fun. You, Elena, don't look so heroic yourself."

"You caught me, " she said as she held her hands together in mock surrender.

As Elena went for her drink on the bar, Damon could pick out three more visible tattoos.

She had the phrase 'Wild Child' sprawled out on her right wrist in lazy cursive.

There was a Shakespearean quote on her forearm. " _These violent delights have violent ends."_

 _They sure do._

The final one was a small feather with intricate designs underneath her collarbone in white ink, standing out against her olive skin.

"You don't look like you can be caught, sweetheart."

Elena secretly blushed at how he said those words. As if he actually meant them.

Elena finished her drink in one big swig, which made her face scrunch up and her body shake before she felt it.

She definitely felt it.

"Wanna dance?" Elena's question may have caught Damon off guard, because he asked "What."

"Do you wanna dance with me? I hear I'm good, " she repeated seductively but playful.

Elena decided she was drunk enough to do anything.

Damon decided he wasn't nearly drunk enough, but he was being dragged to the dance floor before he could pick up his glass.

As soon as they stood on the dance floor, Elena closed her eyes and let her body do the talking. She was moving to the beat of the music, and the beat of her pattering drunk heart.

Elena wrapped her hands roughly around Damon's strong shoulders and pushed herself flush against him, grinding her hips onto his.

She turned around so her backside was faced to Damon.

Damon regarded this sight with powerful appreciation. The girl knew how to move.

She dropped down onto the heels of her feet and as she slowly raised back up, her ass grazed Damon's hips as she fluttered her own in mesmerizing movements.

Damon took her hand and led her back up to him, their eyes catching each others.

Elena was lost again. She didn't want to be found.

The contact, all of it set both of them on fire, and nothing could douse it.

 _What a dangerous thing._

Danger was what Damon lived for. What he thrived for.

Just as the song ended, Damon's phone buzzed in his pocket.

It was a message from Enzo. _Meet me outside._

Damon frowned. He didn't want to leave the company of this girl. He wanted to take her home and make her forget her own name while screaming his.

But he had a job to do.

He brushed his thumb against her jaw. "I have to go."

"Why?" Elena stopped dancing and stared him in the eyes. _So blue._

"Business. See you around, _Elena._ "

They exchanged not-so-innocent smiles as he walked away and out the door.

Elena stood there wondering what just happened.

 _xxx_

"This better be good. I was in the middle of something." Damon growled as Enzo rolled his eyes.

"Don't you mean _someone_ , rather?"

"Just shut the fuck up and let's do this, " Damon said coarsely.

"Alright, alright. So I bought drinks for those bastards and spiked them with shit that'll make them pass out in thirty minutes. I got some hot chick with long legs to deliver the drinks to them and say that a naughty blonde from the bar sent them. All we have to do is wait for them to double over in an amnesiac fashion."

"Good. Did you actually see them shoot the drinks down their miserable throats, or are you just hoping they take the bait?" Damon had learned over the years to always have eyes on the plan.

"Yes! I am less of an idiot than you give me credit for, Crow. I actually know what I'm doing."

Damon just chuckled low to himself and waited for the plan to set its course.

 _xxx_

Elena supported herself against a semi-sober Bonnie as her best friend unlocked the door to Elena's apartment.

"Damn, Lena. Lay off the pizza. We aren't kids anymore, if you hadn't noticed." Bonnie placed her hands around Elena's shoulders as she trudged them both through the door.

"I w-will not, you mean person! You're so _mean, "_ Elena stuttered, laughing drunkedly.

She almost stumbled over the welcome mat and fell, but Bonnie lifted her up before she could do so.

"No, Lena. Being mean is leaving you in your own pile of puke in the bathroom at the gas station we had to stop in on the way here because I didn't want you blowing chunks in the floorboard of my car. That would be mean. A bonus is I held your hair back."

"I l-love you Bonnie. _So much. You're my best friend._ " Elena raised her finger up shakily to point at Bonnie childishly.

It certainly felt like babysitting a child.

Bonnie seriously thought Elena was a bipolar drunk, because her emotions were giving her whiplash.

Elena had went from talking about dolphins to Jeremy to if she was wearing mix-matched socks.

 _That shit didn't matter._

But then Elena got serious.

As Bonnie was putting hammered Elena into her bed and taking her flats off, Elena spoke.

"Bonnie, can I ask you something?" Elena muttered.

"Sure, Lena."

"Is there something wrong with me?"

Bonnie went from confused to taken aback.

 _Why would Elena ask that kind of question?_

"What do you mean, babe?"

"Ever since my... my parents died," Elena's chest started to rise with despair, and her eyes started getting wet. She hated drunk crying.

 _Fuck._

"Ever since they died, I've been broken. Like a toy. I don't know how to be fixed and it's killing me." Severe sobs wracked Elena's body, but they didn't hurt. They just made her drained. "I don't remember what it's like to love anybody. It's like I don't want to. I can't. It fucking scares me. It's been so long, it almost feels normal. But I hate it. I hate how badly I let what happened affect me."

Bonnie felt the sadness that Elena emitted from her shaky voice. It sent haunting shivers down Bonnie's back. Anybody could tell that Elena had known despair just by how she spoke.

"You couldn't have controlled it, Elena. You can't help what you feel. Horrible shit happens, but you couldn't have helped them." Bonnie tried reassuring and consoling Elena, but Elena was a masochist by heart.

"Then why does it feel like I've disappointed them? Why does it feel like I'm buried underground and no one can hear me screaming for help? Why can't anybody catch up to my blurry mind and understand me? I don't mean to push people away. I don't fucking want to. But I do. Because I'm scared they'll leave. Like my parents did. I'm just so tired. _I'm so tired._ "

Bonnie stayed quiet, not to disturb Elena.

But Elena's drunk confession made Bonnie's heart break. Elena didn't even know what she had.

Bonnie left Elena to sleep and went to crash on the couch in the living room.

As Elena gathered just enough strength to stop thinking, she began to drift off.

The last thing she saw before her vision turned black was the color blue.

 _xxx_

 _ **A/N:** Delena finally met! I hope it was worthy of our beautiful ship._

 _Now in this chapter, Damon and Enzo form a plan to finish the job on Will and Connor, the associates mentioned in chapter 2, but I won't be writing the actual killing. The scene will be left off after they complete the deal._

 _Next chapter we'll see more of Elena and her past. We will also see Damon thinking non-stop about a certain brown-haired beauty._

 _Review and let me know what you guys think!_


	5. Chapter 4: Hopes Up

_Throbbing._

 _Thump thump thump._

Elena's brain was screaming when she opened her eyes which seemed to be glued shut.

She bolted upright in a sitting position. Her first mistake.

Then came the throbbing again.

 _"Fuck!"_

There was the infamous hangover Elena was conditioned to wake up with every morning after her alcohol binges.

She quickly flew her fingers up to her temples, rubbing them in circles to try and dilute the pain, but to no avail.

Elena gazed around her bedroom for any signs of possible Bonnie remedies.

Her nightstand was the treasure.

A bottle of water and some strong-ass Ibuprofen sat on the stand.

 _Thank God._

Elena popped the pills into her dry-as- sandpaper mouth and gulped them down with the cold water.

As soon as Elena thought she could face her day, even though she would regret it later, she padded across her apartment to the living room, where she ran into a half-asleep Bonnie.

"Mornin,' bitch. How are you?" Bonnie's sentence was almost incoherent, but Elena knew Bonnie well enough to know what she was saying.

Elena threw her head back with a dry giggle bubbling up in her chest. "Oh, fuck you, Bon Bon. You know it feels like shit the next morning. Sometimes the mornings almost make me want to just stay home and watch The X Factor. But thanks for the Ibuprofen."

Bonnie raised her hand up in the air as to say "you're welcome, now leave me alone."

"Okay. I'll make breakfast, but then I have to get ready and head out. I have to meet Jeremy, " Elena explained, and Bonnie gave Elena a thumbs up, letting Elena know that all her best friend wanted was uninterrupted silence.

Elena quickly made pancakes and bacon, putting a plate in the fridge for Bon after she finished her own.

After showering and making sure she looked presentable, a.k.a. subtle sexy, she headed out the door to go meet her younger brother.

 _xxx_

"You can't keep on making excuses, Jeremy! We aren't kids anymore. Things aren't the way they used to be anymore."

Elena was spitting out the usual lecture to Jeremy Gilbert, her younger brother of two years.

He just rolled his brown eyes and scoffed. "You tell me the same shit over and over, Lena. Don't you ever get tired of repeating yourself?"

"That's because you keep on doing the same stupid shit, Jeremy! You won't be this lucky forever."

Jeremy was staying with his current girlfriend, Anna Zhou. She was a small, dark-haired thing.

She was also giving Jeremy way too many free passes.

"You haven't kept down a job since The Grill back home. Soon enough Anna won't be able to handle both of you guys when she gets out of college. She'll want a future, Jeremy. A good one. If you keep slacking then where does that leave you, huh?"

Elena was stuck between wanting Jeremy to get his life together by himself, but the parental side of her was telling Elena to help him like she did when they had no parents.

Elena had built somewhat of a life of her own. She was happy, working at the coffee shop during the day, then sometimes working part-time at the healthcare clinic for senior citizens other days. It worked for her.

She didn't, _couldn't_ , finish college because Jeremy had been entering his senior year and Jenna was getting more serious with Alaric. Jeremy _needed_ her then.

But now? He was nineteen. He should've started taking care of himself a long time ago.

After he graduated, by a miracle he said, he moved to New York with Elena. Then he met Anna. Then he fell in love. Now he's a mess.

"I'm not gonna ruin Anna's future. I actually think I'm a part of it." Jeremy's eyes were filled with swirling emotion. Elena knew those eyes. She knew them as well as she knew the back of her hand.

"Just don't fuck up, Jer. I know what it feels like. It's not nice. I don't want that for you."

Jeremy smiled as Elena confessed wholeheartedly. "Thanks, Lena. But nothing will happen. Not again. I can make this life work."

"Are you happy? Does this," Elena gestured toward their surroundings with her hands, "make you happy? I don't want you having a life you could see yourself wanting to change."

"Yes. I haven't been so sure of anything in a very long time, " he replied sincerely.

Elena surrendered.

"Okay. Okay. I'm done giving you life lessons, then. As long as you're happy. But if I start seeing anything that doesn't vibe right with me, it's right back to where we started, got it?"

"I got you. That's all I've ever wanted from you, is to be in my life, not the the center of it."

Elena could see he meant well when he said it, but she still couldn't help but feel slightly hurt. She didn't know she was absolutely _controlling_ his life.

Elena guessed she had just grown accustomed to raising him up from a teenager to a man. Elena hadn't seen that he already was.

"Well, then that's how we will be from now on, okay? I'm just you're sister and you're just my annoying, imbecilic, stoner baby brother. That sound good?"

Jeremy chuckled as he nodded his head. "That's perfect."

 _xxx_

The Boss was waiting for Damon in his office.

But Damon wasn't even out of his bed.

He was sprawled out on his California King, naked underneath his crisp white sheets. The sun was peeking through his curtains, illuminating the room.

Damon resided in a luxury condo with a view over the Hudson River. If he were a regular person with a regular job, there would be no way in hell that he could've stayed in such a nice, extremely expensive place. But he wasn't regular. Not even close.

Damon's phone had been going off all morning, most likely messages from Klaus or Enzo. But he didn't have the will to leave his big bed just yet.

His mind was busy. Busy thinking about the girl that struck something in Damon.

It excited him.

It made him a fool.

Really he was just getting his hopes up. There was no way that he'd run into her again in the big city. His luck wasn't that giving.

But part of him wished that he would. He wanted to know her, and why she seemed so deep in her mind. Damon instantly got the vibe that the girl definitely knew how to have fun. Knew how to live for the sake of feeling alive.

Damon was sure that she would know how to make him feel alive, too.

Maybe that's why he was so fascinated by her. As soon as she spoke, she had him. She had his full attention. Not because she was showing her model body off as a prize that no one could just have, but because there was something more to her prettiness. _More_.

That's what he wanted. He wanted more of her. She was definitely a challenge, Damon was sure. But so was he.

There were just certain people in the world that you knew were special. She was one of those people.

 _If you keep on thinking like this, you'll grow a vagina._

Feelings weren't Damon's specialty.

Violence was. His life was filled with dead bodies and refills in his bank account and bourbon. _Lots_ of bourbon. His life wasn't sugar-sweet or pretty. It was dangerous, and tempting.

But that's what Damon loved about the life. It was always an adrenaline rush. He never knew what he'd be assigned to do next.

Of course people were out for him. That's why he had to leave home. That's why he had to leave his brother behind.

Stefan Salvatore was seventeen the last time Damon had seen him in person.

They would talk on the phone sometimes, or even write each other, but Damon couldn't risk Stefan being thrown into his life. Damon knew that Stefan would love it too.

The Salvatore brothers were raised with a thirst for adventure and trouble.

That's exactly what Damon had set out for when Klaus found him. His reputation was never as big before Klaus. Damon owed Klaus that. Damon owed this life he so desperately craved to Klaus.

Klaus had a fair amount of debts towards Damon as well though.

Klaus had never had a man better than Damon. Damon was his number one choice in every deal. If Damon chose not to take a deal, then Klaus would have to call on another one of his lackies to handle things.

Damon knew Klaus hated it when he refused a deal, but sometimes it was so damn funny.

Finally deciding that rustling around in your thoughts were overrated, Damon got up and went to go see The Boss.

 _xxx_

"Ah, Damon. Finally gifting me with your presence, I see." Klaus' voice was coated thickly with severe frustration, and a little relief.

"Yup. I'm here. What a treat for you it must be, "Damon replied, his usual jackass tendencies fighting with his logic.

"Tell me something good. Saint gave me a summary, but he said he'd allow you to give me the details."

Damon scoffed lightly. "He's _allowing_ me? Just for that little comment I need to beat his stupid ass."

"Not the point right now, Crow. Talk."

"Fine, fine. Basically we roofied them because they were just that idiotic, then we snatched them up from the alley behind the club. Believe me when I say those were some _heavy_ motherfuckers, even for me. Anyway, so we got them into the truck without any witnesses. I checked. _Twice_."

Klaus blew out a breath of hot air, like a balloon. He raised his right hand up in a gesture that told Damon to continue.

"So after they regained consciousness, we already had made it to the warehouse. I interrogated them both about their partnership with Lionel X." Damon detached himself from his position against the wall and made himself comfy on Klaus' leather sofa, spreading his body across it and clasping his hands together behind his head.

"And?"

"And? They didn't talk. They never do. Unless we threaten with violence and torture. It didn't take, this time. They didn't spill anything, so I shoved my long blade into Connor's chest until he bled out. I don't really know what Enzo did exactly to Will, but he's dead, too. I left the bodies for Aaron to clean up, since he's so good at it."

Klaus chuckled silently, then offered Damon a grin, an appraisal. The Boss never gave it to anyone unless they deserved it. Damon always deserved it.

"Excellent. I'll tell Lionel that the mission is accomplished. Your pay should be wired to your account by tomorrow morning. And give Saint some of the cut. Whatever you think is best."

Damon knew he'd end up splitting the cash with Enzo. He always did.

"Noted. Now, I've got a bottle of Jack and a no good English bastard waiting for me. I'll be back."

Damon hopped up from the sofa and started for the door, shooting a farewell hand behind him as he left without another word.


	6. Chapter 5: Bourbon

Elena didn't go to work. She called in sick, said she'd be healthy and happy to be there tomorrow.

Really, she wasn't sick. She was exhausted. Last night had messed with her mind, in a way. She didn't remember much, like usual.

But she remembered _someone._ She couldn't get the image of those impossibly blue eyes out of her head.

Damon. The name of the stranger she encountered. Danced with. Talked with.

Somehow, even though the name should be foreign to her tongue, it wasn't. His name came out of her mouth so naturally, it felt like she had been saying it her entire life.

When he strutted up to her, all cockiness and seduction, she instantly felt more aware of everything around her. Where the alcohol had numbed her sharp senses, his presence did the opposite. She was aware of her blood pumping through her veins excitedly, hoe her breath caught and escaped her lungs, how her heart beat at the speed of light. She was surprised that her heart didn't explode out of her chest.

She was also aware of _him_. How his tongue swept over his teeth after he took a bitter sip of his drink, making her body forget how to move. Then he asked for her name after he offered his. He said her name with so much power, suddenly she loved the sound of her name when she had despised it all her life.

 _Shit._

Elena internally chastised herself. She shouldn't be thinking about a mysterious stranger that made her want to do the worst things known to God. But she disobeyed and thought. She thought and thought and thought until even her brain was exhausted.

 _xxx_

The lights were a little too bright fo Damon's liking, but then he took another shot of the strongest tequila at the bar and he started to not give a fuck.

Enzo, sitting beside him, ordered another round. Damon already knew that he could drink everyone under the table, but he also knew that Enzo would try to win anyways.

"To the success of the downfall of men." Enzo announced, holding up a celebratory shot.

Damon followed Enzo's actions, some of the drink dripping off the rim of the rim of the shit glass.

"Only the fools," Damon declared as he clinked his glass drunkenly with Enzo's.

 _You're just as foolish as the rest of them._

"We should I go to Cape Horn. I've always wanted to go," Enzo rambled, smiling stupidly in the process, his canines appearing as sharp as fangs.

"You're fucking wasted, dude. Even I'm not as gone as you are, and I drank more than you."

With that, Damon filled his stomach with another tumbler of bourbon, emphasizing his point.

"That just makes you alcohol, you asshole."

Damon smirked, completely agreeing with his best friend.

"It also makes me more fun, sexy, and everything you aren't, dick." Damon said, shoving Enzo lightly with his broad shoulder as Enzo let out a cackle. A fucking cackle.

 _Hammered bastard._

"Okay. Wow, I'm buzzed enough to dance with a gorgeous female with loose morals. Catch you later, Saint."

Enzo didn't speak back, just waved lazily as he went back to staring at the pretty bartender with breasts that were practically spilling over the collar of her shirt.

Damon had stolen a glance while he was ordering his first drink, and the girl didn't do it for him.

Damon preferred a girl with smaller breasts, just enough for him to bury his face in while he got off. That's all he ever did.

Damon's past had taught him that that was the smartest way to go. Not to mix sex with whatever feelings he fought deep within his head. He could barely handle his own emotions without losing control, let alone anyone else's.

Damon's eyes swept over the incredibly crowded club. He was in Nightwalker for the second time in two days. The first time was mandatory, but the second?

Secretly Damon made an appearance there again to see if his luck would play fair with him. It didn't. His eyes hadn't caught sight of the one girl he wanted to see. _Shame._

So instead, he preyed on another dark-haired girl. She looked young, no older than twenty-one. She was petite with subtle curves, barely reaching Damon's shoulders.

She wasn't breathtaking, but she was enough. Enough for Damon to temporarily satisfy the animal inside him demanding to feel naked skin against his own. Enough for him to fuck the frustration out of his system. Enough to forget.

That's how it worked, right? You don't catch feelings in this life, you don't catch empathy. You only catch the bad guys, even if it means being a bad guy yourself.

But instead of pondering more on the rules of the game, Damon decided to play with his pretty little thing like a cat with a plush ball of yarn.

It was a tempting distraction. He always gave in to his temptations, and he loved it. Damon always indulged on his desires, always filled the hunger for the animal quaking beneath his bones.

Moving closer to the girl, he started charming his way through the crowd. The girl was pulsing to the music, so much that she barely noticed when he slid behind her and started humming against her ear.

The girl must not have been bothered by Damon's sudden movement, because she ground her hips into his rhythmically. The petite thing twisted her body around to face Damon, and her eyes widened at the attractiveness of this stranger.

"I'm Krystal," the girl blurted out over the loud and heavy music, still swaying onto his hard body.

"I'm Damon. And you're good at rolling your hips, Krystal." Damon grinned as Krystal's cheeks flushed at the comment.

"Do you want to go somewhere?"

Good to know that the girl got straight to the point.

"Definitely," Damon replied as he took her small hand and led her away from the dance floor, and out of the club.

 _xxx_

"These tights are too fucking tight, Bon Bon!"

Elena whined loudly, her agitated voice bouncing off Bonnie's apartment walls.

"Jesus, Elena! I'm coming. Quit being so bitchy and chill the hell out." Bonnie thought that if Elena yelled any more, the pictures on her walls would shake off. She also thought that Elena needed to get out of her tiny black hole and rejoin civilization. So they were going back to Nightwalker, where Elena could dance and drink her wits away.

Now Elena couldn't find what to wear.

"Try that devil-red cocktail dress. It'll make your ass look amazing. Wear it." Bonnie said as she went back to applying her mascara over her spiderweb eyelashes.

Elena peeked into the closet, looking for where the dress Bonnie said it would be. When her eyes landed on it, she knew she was going to wear it.

Standing on the tips of her toes to reach it, she clasped her hand aggressively around the hanger and pulled it down from atop its high place in Bonnie's medium-sized closet.

Elena took the straps off the hanger and examined the slinky piece of material. It was bright red at the top, but it faded down to a deep red velvet at the bottom of the skirt.

She decided to put it on. It took a little struggle to slide the tight material down her hips, but once she did, she inaudibly gasped.

The bust of the dress gave her braless breasts endless amounts of life, then it cinched around her waist, giving her stunning curves their bombshell shape. The dress ended below her soft thighs, and if she tried to bend over someone would surely get a show.

 _Note to self: don't bend over. For anything._

She paired the dress with shiny black stilettos that made her lean legs go on for days. She scrutinized her appearance in the mirror in front of her, liking what she saw. Elena was never one to be conceited; she knew she was attractive. But tonight was a different story. She looked like she was ready to break hearts and stomp on whatever was left over with her heels. She was a knockout force of nature.

By the time she finished admiring herself, Bonnie stepped up behind her. "Damn, girl. I think you're gonna turn me. You look hot!"

A bubble of laughter left Elena's chest as she twirled around to face her best friend. Bonnie was just as jaw-dropping in a tight black miniskirt and a lacey white crop to match, emphasizing her toned physique.

"Ditto, actually." In truth, it wasn't the first time a similar thought had crossed Elena's mind. Girls were gorgeous, especially to her. Sometimes she had found herself studying a woman's body just a little too long. She was curious, but she never had acted on that curiosity. She was hesitant.

 _Hesitantness is a regular trait nowadays._

Before she could drown herself in her thoughts, Bonnie snapped her out of it. "Now, since we both look hot and ready to conquer the world, you ready to go?"

Bonnie knew Elena all too well, knowing that if the tall brunette stayed in her head too long she'd talk her way out of not going.

Elena replied with a mumbled, "yes." Even with her outer appearance satisfying her, her insides felt heavier than stone. The thoughts in her head filled it up uncomfortably like lead. She wasn't anxious, exactly. She just felt uneasy, like it wasn't her. This pretty, tied-up-perfectly-like-a-bow image wasn't something she was used to. She had no desire to impress anyone. She barely even impressed herself in certain aspects. But Bonnie was pushing her out of her comfort zone, rather quickly to Elena's disliking.

Elena's mind was running like a marathon in the drive to the club. It was the same way as it had been the previous times before. Reach the bouncer, allow him a good look, get granted access ahead of the people waiting in line because they were "sexy girls," enter the club, and welcome the booming music with an open mind. Or at least stages how Elena tried it.

When she stepped into the club, Bonnie smiling wickedly by her side, the music vibrated in her ears, making her squirm in her dress. It was dubstep, Elena's least favorite genre of music. The beats were shrill in her ears, but she shrugged it off, not allowing it to ruin her night completely.

Bonnie gestures to the halfway filled neon-lit bar. Blue eyes flashed in Elena's head, remembering her moment at the exact same place at the bar less than 24 hours earlier.

 _Sigh._

"What do you want, Elena? It's on me. I took you out so I'm buying tonight." Bonnie said.

Elena was about to argue but Bonnie beat her to the punch, verifying her choice by saying, "Don't worry. You'll just owe me one later."

Knowing it was best not to push it further, Elena ordered her usual, bourbon, neat.

Everyone always wondered why she always drank such a bitter whiskey. Her response was always the same, "it's an acquired taste." Indeed it was, but Elena had found the taste comforting over time. At first, she scrunched up her nose at the smell. Then everything changed. Nowadays, that was the only booze she could bear to drink, besides tequila. Her lightweight nature changed after she had grown accustomed to it, now three to four plus tumblers of the rich amber liquid was needed for her to truly lose the nerves and forget them for a little while. So that's exactly what she was going to do.

Bonnie rested her elbows on the bar as she settled in her seat, waiting for the bartender to make their drinks. "So, what's on your mind, Lena?"

It was as if Elena was in slow motion, because it took her a second to process Bonnie's question. Elena didn't even have a full answer to that question. "Honestly, I don't know. Everything."

Elena bit into her lip subconsciously as she riddled with her slim fingers, still trying to answer. "I had another dream last night."

That was the main source of her unease over the course of the day. She hadn't had a dream in years. And when she did, it was always the same agonizing one.

Bonnie's face fell, her eyes shining with sympathy as she took in Elena's confession. "Why didn't you tell me earlier? We could've stayed home and watched _Magic Mike_."

Elena knew her vivacious best friend was trying to cheer her up even in the slightest, but it didn't do much good. What would cheer her up was liquor. A lot of it.

"I don't know, it shook me up. I haven't had it since Jeremy roped me into going back home to visit Jenna. Nothing's happened that could trigger it."

Finally the bartender slid their drinks over. Elena clutched her glass tightly, knuckles turning white as she took a selfish swig. It soothed her tightened chest, ironically.

"I'm sorry, Lena. I should've stayed with you last night. Maybe I could've helped." Bonnie replied, her voice soft even though she had to shout over the pounding melodies.

"It's okay, Bon. There's nothing you could've done anyway. It's not like I can turn my brain off. And believe me, I'm still trying to find a way to."

My own words vibrated through my spine. I literally _felt_ my defeat. My mistakes. Everything changes too harshly for someone who loses time to live life at their own pace.

Sadly there was no cure for a broken soul. That's why people get lost in their addictions, in their desires. To to get away from reality, from the truth.

"I get it, Elena. It wasn't easy. I know that it still isn't, and that it never will be. But you can't let it stop you from living your life. Don't destroy yourself by not doing what you want. Live for yourself, and for them too." Bonnie grasped of Elena's hand and held it supportively.

Of course an endearing heart-to-heart best friend talk was by the bar, drinks nursed. It was even a little poetic.

The free hand that gripped Elena's tumbler shook slightly. She was on the verge of a mental attack. It was too much sometimes.

So she threw her drink down her throat in one big chug. She definitely needed more to make it through this night.

"I don't remember how to. But I'm trying. I'm okay. Nothing lasts forever."

Elena's face was unreadable, so Bonnie didn't know what to say. So she agreed. "You're right. But enough heavy chit chat. Are you gonna dance at your own will tonight or will I have to drag you forcefully by your hair? And don't even say I'll be hurting you. I know you like having your hair pulled, kinky _Fifty Shades Of Grey-_ reading Gilbert."

This time, Elena's insides echoed, actually giggling at Bonnie's second attempt at making her smile.

"You're so snoopy. Be happy I'm not like Caroline when you go through my stuff." Elena joked faintly as she got a refill on her bourbon.

"Oh, it'd be WWIII. But you didn't answer my question. So?"

Elena scrunched her face up at the idea, but she acquiesced. There was no way Bonnie was going to let her out of this anyways.

"Fine, I will. But I need, like, a thousand more drinks. Preferably strong ones."

Bonnie rolled her eyes lightly, "Deal."

 _xxx_

She was beautiful, heavenly. A sight for sore fucking eyes.

And it wasn't this girl Damon was caged against behind the alley of the club.

Damon's eyes trailed down to below his waist. She was on her knees, keeping him in place leaned back against a brick wall, unbuckling his pants.

She was nearly stupid drunk, it taking her forever to undo the goddamn belt. And it wasn't even a gorgeous sight, it made him feel _off._ Like it wasn't what he wanted. But he never left a fellow partner hanging, no matter who it was. So he guided her up from her position on the wet concrete, spinning them around so she was backed up against his hips.

She moaned lowly when he rolled his member against her, raising her dress up just enough to latch his hand onto her thigh.

He sprung free from his confining jeans, entering this girl he didn't even want as much as he had thought he did.

She sucked in a breath as he thrust his hips in and out hastily. No bullshit, just straight to it.

It was over before he knew it. It wasn't hard for him to make girls come. No matter what tool he was using. Sex was the only thing he didn't fuck up in.

She came down from her high as Damon let her go. Neither one of them even said anything to each other as they eventually parted ways.

Damon was absolutely out of it. _What the fuck is happening to you, man?! DON'T FEEL._

His buzz was long gone by now, regretfully so. He didn't want to go back into that damn place again either.

He didn't know where to go. That's the thing about not being able to care too much. He didn't have anyone to go to.

That was the tragedy of not being able to love the way you know you could, to your full potential. The love spilled over from misuse, and was replaced with an empty ache.

It had never truly bothered Damon before. He was used to unreachable expectations, failure, second best to everything and everyone. That's what made his job so effortless, he couldn't get any worse that what he already was. But, for some strange subconscious reason, he started questioning it, questioning himself. As if he were unsure of himself and what he wanted.

He had never given himself the luxury of doing so, always shrugging it off and pushing it to the back of his mind in the corner labeled "do not touch." So why was he suddenly disobeying his own rules?

For once, Damon didn't have a solid answer.

Growing agitated at himself and the big bad world, sleep was beginning to sound like the greatest idea Damon had ever formed.

Contemplating on whether or not he should call for a cab, Damon made his way back into the club in hopes of finding Enzo so he wouldn't have to talk to himself the entire way home.

 _You'll drive yourself fucking nuts._

The bouncer was about to protest to Damon's re-enter, but Damon slammed a wad of cash carelessly to his meaty chest, and the bouncer's words died on his tongue.

Inside, the club had become brighter, and way more loaded with people, if that was even possible. His eyes scoped the bar for the back of Enzo's head. He didn't find a scruff of brown hair and leather-clad back. So Enzo was probably busy getting spent in a pretty girl's bed.

 _Good for you, bastard._

Damon had told himself that he was just going to search for Enzo, but he was a liar, especially to himself. He requested one final tumbler for the night.

Somehow this drink tasted stronger than the rest he had consumed earlier into the night. Maybe it was more consoling due to his flood of unexpected emotions, or maybe he was imagining things.

He had opted for the first choice, but then he heard a noise. It was lighthearted but unrestrained. Even slightly familiar.

Damon's eyes swept over his surroundings, from the flashing DJ's table in the center of the dance floor to the rest of the row going down the line of the bar.

Then his eyes widened. He saw a very familiar ass. One that he had been thinking about ever since he witnessed it. Then he realized that the noise he had heard belonged to that ass.

It was Elena, wearing a slip of fabric that made his blood boil. It was snugged so fucking tight on her perfectly carved body, the image forcing an unadulterated groan to escape his throat. Her hair was up in a topknot that had been loosened due to dancing. He wanted to tug it down and feel it flow through his fingers. She was an apparition of temptations, especially his.

She was slouched against a wall near the dance floor, accompanied by a light-skinned beauty with black hair touching her shoulders. They seemed to be laughing over a joke someone told, because they were sharing the same facial expression: joy.

She looked so happy in that moment, conversing with someone she cared about, lighting up the damn room. Living so animatedly, even if she was drunk. It reminded Damon of what contentment looked like. Total relief, even only for a second. The world was lifted off exhausted shoulders, and you could breathe again quickly before you crashed. That's what she looked like. And she was captivating. Damon wouldn't trade a thing to stop looking at her. Absolutely nothing. She was art, as he was the mere onlooker reminiscing in her presence, studying her lines and edges.

Almost as if cracks of electricity shot through the air, Elena sensed a burning set of eyes. She glanced up immediately, meeting the pair of blue orbs across the room. Instantly her knees went weak. She stumbled back lightly against the wall, caught in a mix of lust and anxiousness.

But then his lips cast themselves into a cocky smirk that melted her insides. He knew exactly who she was. The familiarity was almost frightening.

 _I guess my luck is turning,_ Damon thought with the smirk still attached to his face.

Elena comprehended that as soon as he spotted her he'd make his way across the room to her. But she didn't want that, not with all these people around her, not with the music too violent for her to hear is damning voice. So she excused herself.

"Bonnie, I have to go to the bathroom. I'll be right back," Elena said as she caught the attention of a very exuberant Bonnie.

"Okay! Be back fast though, 'cuz I don't wanna get lonely. Okay?"

Elena chuckled yet again at Bonnie's drunken behavior. She loved watching Bonnie let loose. Tonight, at first, _she_ had intentions on being the one that needed to be taken care of, but Elena acqueused once she noticed Bonnie taking vodka shots. It was all over by then.

Elena wasn't exactly sober, but she wasn't out of her element. She was tipping over the edge of incredibly buzzed. "Okay, Bon. I'll be right back."

Coarsing through the crowd was difficult, but Elena's steps never faulted. She still felt his eyes obsessing over her deliciously. Her movements felt more beautiful with him watching.

Once Elena reached the only thing she cared to bother with at this club, she smiled. "Hi."

His smirk turned into something genuine as her eyes lit up. "Hiya, back."

Damon's night had just gotten a million times better.

 _xxx_

 _ **AN:** Cliffhanger! I know, I'm horrible lmao. Butttttt, next chapter will pick up where we left off. _

_And I am sorry it's been forever since an update! I've just been starting school again and I was so busy over the summer. I almost decided to not post any more, but then I realized Damon and Elena deserve better than an unfinished tale._

 _Please review what you think ! Give me your feedback, whether good or bad. Give me ideas. I live for them, guys!!_

 _Until next time, ciao lovelies 3_


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